


Now that you are gone

by AsheTarasovich (natalieashe), Boffin1710, natalieashe



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Anger, Angst, F/M, Gen, Goodbyes, SPECTRE Fix-It, Spectre Fit-it in our own way, life goes on - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-03
Updated: 2016-07-20
Packaged: 2018-07-19 22:58:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 10,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7380904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/natalieashe/pseuds/AsheTarasovich, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Boffin1710/pseuds/Boffin1710, https://archiveofourown.org/users/natalieashe/pseuds/natalieashe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And life changes… In many ways... For many people...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A hand turns the key

London streets at dawn.

A hand turns the key in the ignition of the Aston Martin DB-5.

A rev counter bursts to life. An engine throbs.

A clutch is depressed.

A gear stick is slammed forward.

“Where will we go, James?”

“I have a few ideas. After all… We have all the time in the world.”

The accelerator is hit…

Wheels spin… and the Aston Martin DB-5 roars away.

Taking them somewhere…

Anywhere…

Together.

_And life changes…_

_In many ways..._

_For many people..._


	2. You did what?!

“You did what?” Moneypenny snaps at him in utter disbelief. And even in few brief seconds it takes her to say the words the scene plays out in his head. Vivid. As if he is reliving it all again.

_Hearing the freight elevator jump into motion in this darkened mechanics workshop at an ungodly hour of the early morn. No one comes to see him that early in the morn, not even Tanner. Hand automatically reaching for Walther PK380 holster under the workbench as footsteps sound echoing in the dark silence. Gun cautious held at side ready, slowly moving to the main area realising the cadence of those footsteps are so familiar as well as the sound of my own against the cave like walls._

_With a sigh the Walther slips into trouser pocket as Bond steps out of the darkness and becomes visible light of the single bulb hanging there. Smartly dressed once more. Flicking the wall switch and all the lights pop on._

_“Bond? What in the hell are you doing here?” And then we are staring at each other once more._

_“Morning Q.” Just like you have said a thousand times over. “There’s just one thing I need.”_

_Stand there. Silent. Staring._

_And all the air is sucked out of the room suddenly._

_And I know. I should have known. I have no fucking idea what I was expecting. I huff a small laugh in absolute fucking unbelievable absurdity of the entire situation. And then…. I snatch up the car keys tossing them across the room._

_“Thank you, Q…”_

“I gave him the keys.” He forces himself to say calmly, just an everyday occurrence in their daily life. “And he left. That's all there is to it.” Q wandered around to the far side of his workbench, turning to the latest barrel tooling his was working on. He’s purposely putting a barrier between them. He can’t have her get too close, touch him, try to hug him. He will lose his composure in an utterly embarrassing cascade of emotion unfitting of the Quartermaster.

“Q? Are you alright?” Moneypenny hesitantly started not sure exactly where to take this conversation.

“I'm fine, Moneypenny.” He waved her off with a hand that was holding a silicone polishing cloth as his mind was already trying to partition his emotions off into hidden sectors. However, Moneypenny was one of the few people who really knew what the relationship had been between the Quartermaster and his two Double O agents… and she was his best friend.

He turned around and there she stood, hands on hips staring at him. There would be no way he could hide the deluge anxiety that was building inside from her. “No. I'm not fine.” he sighed dropping the gun barrel on the workbench not caring if it was scratched, dented or whatnot at the moment. “But I will be.” He swallowed hard trying to smile at her.

He began repeating it in his head. ‘I'm fine. I will be fine. It's going to be fine.’ It would soon become his new mantra. He would be fine. He had his work to throw himself into, and Alec would be back eventually…

Oh god…. Alec.

Alec who was ensconced a deep cover mission in Archangelsk at the far northern European borders of Russia

Alec who hadn't a clue as to what had happened with Bond.

Alec who was Bond’s best friend.

Alec who had first been Bond’s partner.

Oh god. Alec would now leave also.

“I’ll be fine Moneypenny.”

 

 


	3. Because I loved you

Right now, I want nothing more than to run into your arms, kiss you so hard and have your embrace take my pain away. I want to feel the bristles of your beard rub against my face, as you hold me in a tight in your arms.

I want us to talk and laugh. Cook dinner together while drinking wine, chopping up onions and garlic, and making pasta like we have so many times.

If our fingertips could touch, if our hearts could beat side by side, then maybe everything would feel right in the world again. Maybe these tears would disappear when I am alone, and this goddamn bloody anguish would dissolve.

But after swaggering into my life, you swained off into the darkness, leaving not just me to wallow in the vacant hole you left.  
  
How am I supposed to get on without you?

I stand alone, unable to figure anything out, unable to think straight. Every minute feels tortuously long. Expecting you to swagger back in through that door as if nothing happened. And yet, I have to move on and act as if a part of my world hasn’t imploded around me. And there isn’t a bloody fucking thing I can do about it.

As the clock slowly clicks on, minute by minute, second by second, as my heart beats, there are times that I’m utterly convinced that time is frozen. That I’m stuck in an icy world where the breeze tears through my skin, repeating memories and brings me to my knees.  
  
Our love should have been a book. Then I could edit the ending, making it happier, less brutal and less messy. Instead, inside the pages, love is finished. Wrapped up. Done. And yet, something still feels painfully unfinished as if there is a chapter missing, a missing epilogue.  
  
I always thought that an ending would immediately snips the thread that connects two hearts. How stupid was that. That thread still lingers, burning, stinging, and pulling. Somehow forever wrapped around my heart. A residue of some kind. An echo in my bones. A memory at full speed, constantly racing through my mind.  
  
Maybe our love will always feel unfinished.  
  
And I won’t lie, (at least not here like the outward face I portray to the rest of the world) I pray to whatever gods there are that we will find our way back to each other at some point in time. I pray that maybe this road we’re taking is part of the path that will eventually lead us back together.  
  
But hope can’t sustain me.  
  
For now, our story is finished.  
  
I have to keep living.  
  
Start a new story or complete the one I have already started. Maybe start a fresh, empty page, grab up a keyboard, cry bloody my eyes out trying not to cause a cascading coding failure, and make create something fucking beautiful.  
  
I have to live brilliantly… artfully… creatively… with my whole, broken heart, with every fiber of my being.  
  
But at the moment, all I want is curl up and hide under a hundred blankets. The ghosts of memories fill up my bones and weigh me down like lead.  
  
I have to keep living.  
  
I have to keep editing my story. Chasing my dreams… creating, exploring, learning, and laughing. I have to keep prying open my heart once more, feel each passing moment, and remember that there are those who still need me. Those here who still love me.  
  
I have to see that there is more to life.

I have to see that there are those who still love me and need.  
  
I have to live.  
  
I will embrace this desolate feeling of loneliness and morph it into something useful.  
  
I will sprout wings and learn to fly from the ashes of this fierce pain.  
  
Right now, as the clock clicks slowly… and my heart beats along with it. Everything hangs in the air, like the dense fog that encompasses the city. A fierce wish that we could have made this work, could have been enough, could have been what you needed, could have been... That it could have lasted a little longer.  
  
What if?  
  
What if we could have made it work?  
  
Something that I bloody deluded myself into thinking. Became too comfortable with.  
  
Fucking What ifs.  
  
But in a small moment of clarity, that crawls over my skin like a distant whisper. And it’s so bloody strange, but I can feel it in my bones… this is the right thing to do.  
  
I love you, but I have to let you go, Bond.  
  
Our story is over.  
  
The final words have been written. The last drops of blood have been spilled. The story-line is locked in place, set in stone.  
  
Hard as we tried I suppose, there just wasn’t enough there to bridge the gaps between our differences.  
  
And it fucking hurts.  
  
My god, I know it hurts.  
  
Because I loved you.

 


	4. A bloody fine homecoming

The journey back to Alec Trevelyan always takes it out of me.  Four days this time, gradually becoming more myself with each layover.  Slowly shelving my cover with each minor exchange of intelligence at half a dozen stopping off points.  FSB had me go over the data at least three times, approaching it from different angles like they were trying to catch me out.  As if.  Cooperation will never sit easy between the intelligence agencies of the world.   
  
I call Q from Amsterdam, to tell him I'll be home by nightfall.  He knows already of course, but it's become something of a routine for us whenever we're ready for the final hop back to our real life.  His mobile rings and rings until finally voicemail steps in, Q's crisp posh voice instructing me to leave a message.   
  
"It's me.  The job has concluded.  I'll bring you back some of those Dutch biscuits you like.  I should land at Heathrow about two, so it will be early evening at least before M is done with me.  Don't wait.  I'll see you back at the flat and bring takeaway."   
  
I hang up and check the board to see if the flight has been called yet.  Somehow this final stop always feels the longest, most tedious of them all.   Constantly glancing between the board and the clock doesn't help the time pass quicker.  

I still feel slightly alien, handing over a false passport as I board.  The seat to my right by the aisle is vacant.  The window seat is occupied by a pensioner already drooping into sleep.  Just as well… Conversation isn’t welcome when I’m building the anticipation of finally being home after almost three bloody months away.

Q still isn't picking up when I call him from Heathrow, so I try Moneypenny.  Before I can even ask a question she is rattling off details of the driver who has been sent to collect me, and the itinerary for my return to base.  I’m only half listening when she tells me I am to turn in my equipment to R.

“Why?”

“Why what?” She grinds to a halt, confused that I have interrupted her flow.  

“Why am I reporting to R and not Q?  He’s alright isn’t he?”

“He’s… Fine.  Busy.  Important project to finish and…”

“Moneypenny.  Eve.  Don’t bullshit me.  You’re being evasive which always means you’re under orders from the little shite not to disclose something to me.  It can’t be work, so it must be personal.”  

Q could be a secretive little git sometimes.  He wasn’t prone to romantic gestures, God forbid, but he had been known to welcome us home in surprising ways.  If he was plotting something, Moneypenny would be his partner in crime.  “Is James in on it?”  I can’t help the grin that splits my face.  “Do I need to rethink the takeaway?”

“Alec.”  Irritation evident.  “Just follow instructions for once in your life.  Number one on the list is report to me.  I don’t give a damn about your takeaway.  See you soon.”  She hung up before I could say anymore.

* * *

Stunned.  I pull the door to Moneypenny’s office shut behind me and take two steps before I have to stop and try to make sense of her snarling.  James is gone?  What did she mean, gone?  It’s bloody ridiculous.  He’s dropped off the grid plenty of times before but always surfaces, contacting me even if MI6 has no clue where he is.  

But this time he’d actually left, running away with some woman he had met on his last mission.  Fucks sake, did the man never learn?  Vesper fucking Lynd was a disaster, and this one would be no better for him, but…  Gone, and no intention of coming back.  

I realise I haven’t moved for verging on ten minutes, one hand jammed into my hair in agitation while I try to figure out what to do next.  Moneypenny is furious with James. 

Apparently that also means I am in the firing line.  

Q is actively ignoring me, not just busy, and… Fuck, this is screwed up.

I glance at the schedule Moneypenny had thrust at me, mid-rant, screw it into a ball and drop it on the floor.  Medical, R and M can all just fucking wait. Q is more important.

“When were you planning on talking to me?”  

Q pauses in his typing, hesitates before he looks at me.  Carefully he leans back in his chair, fingertips resting on the edge of his desk.  He blinks a few times behind his glasses.

I know he is mentally composing himself.

“I apologise.  I thought it was perhaps best discussed in person.”  

The posh formality tells me more than anything else that Q is very upset and trying to hide it.  He is choosing his words carefully, thinking before he speaks.  Noticeable pauses between each rattled off sentence.

“I haven’t started to pack up his possessions.  I thought perhaps you may want to do it.  Arrange storage, or send them on…”  Q bites his lip briefly and ducks his head mumbling “maybe you want to deliver them yourself.  Meet her.”

“Q, what in the hell makes you think I would want to meet her?”  

Q is deliberately not saying what is going on in that complex head of his.  Instead he is spouting practicalities at me like that will throw me off pursuing the fact our lover… 

Our partner… 

Has apparently walked out of our lives without a backward glance for the crazy idea he can have a normal life with the latest damsel in distress.

“You and Bond are partners.  Were partners before I joined you.  So I understand your loyalty is to him first.”  Q fixes his eyes on his monitor, lays his fingers lightly on his keyboard.  It's a dismissal.

It makes me bloody furious.  

“I can manage the flat on my own until Six finds me somewhere smaller.  I don't think I want to rattle around…”

I do the only thing I can think of to focus his attention on me.  Q yelps as his screen goes black, power winking out as I rip the power cord from the unit.  “Talk to me, damnit!  Properly!  Don’t give me this shite, Q!  Because it seems to me he’s walked out on both of us, not just you!”  I kick the chair out of the corner and drop into it on the opposite side of the desk.  Q is chewing on his lip and not looking at me.  I give him a moment before starting up again.

“Listen to me.  I don’t know what went on between you two…”

“Nothing.”  Q says softly.  “I mean, nothing went wrong.  No fights, no arguments, not even a proper explanation.  He just… Left.  With her.  And the DB5.  I guess I wasn't enough of a reason to stay.”

Anger flares, white hot.  “This is not your fault.  Don’t you dare take this on yourself.  Fuck!”  Talking about this with a desk between us where anyone can interrupt is not going to get us far.  “This is what we’re going to do.  Get out of here, back to the flat. Eat.  Drink.  Talk.  Understood?  Get your stuff.”

I can see he wants to argue.  Instead he nods and silently collects his tablet and phones, dropping all into his bag and shrugging on his coat.  

I stop him with a hand on his arm, turning him slowly to face me.  “Whatever is in that head of yours, know that I am not going anywhere.” 

I want to kiss him but the barrier of hurt around him is almost tangible.  

Too fresh.  

Too soon.  

“Come on.  Time to go home.”


	5. Pissed? Yeah I'm pissed

Do you have any idea what you're doing?  What you've already done?  I don't believe for a second you're blind to the consequences of your actions.  Come on, James, you always look three or four steps ahead of every decision you make.  I've known you too long for you to fool me, so what the fuck are you trying to achieve with this... 

Whatever the fuck it is?   
  
And why the fuck now?  

You couldn't wait a few weeks? 

Make sure of your supposed feelings and then bloody explain it to us... Your existing partners... Before you up and left?  Fuck James.... I know this isn't us, but things were bloody different!  Weren't they?  Christ...     
  
Ok, I know what it's like.  I know what it is to feel alone in the world, without connection, but we gave that to each other, here and there, now and then.  And the last few months, with Q at the centre of our world... Or at least he was the centre of mine, but you?     
  
You fucking walked away without a second thought!  

Actually no!  

It was calculated, planned.  Q told me you came back.  Not for him though, but for the fucking car!  

A car, James!  

How could you do that, and look him in the eye?  How could you calmly take the fucking vehicle and ignore the pain you were leaving behind?  

I want to hate you, but we have too many years behind us.   
  
Q is a mess, in case you're interested.  Not that he shows it to the world, bloody master of hiding his emotions that one… even better than you.  But I see it.  I see the way he suddenly cracks and slumps, until he becomes aware I'm watching.  Then his spine stiffens and he adopts the Quartermaster persona that no one can penetrate.  

Are you pleased that he carries on like what you shared meant nothing?   
  
I think.. No, I know...  That this time there is no way back for you.  Q says you've been gone six weeks without contact.  In my gut I know you are not coming back to us. 

You're chasing rainbows, dreams, fantasies of a normal life.  

You must know you're destined to fail.  She is not your happy ever after, Bond.  You can't walk away from this life... And I don't mean Q and I.   
  
A huge part of me wants to say 'Fuck you, Bond.  Fuck you and your impossible dreams' but there will always be that hidden voice that begs you to come home.  

Once upon a time it was only so I wasn't alone in the world but then we became three and sex wasn't the be all and end all of our staying together.  Sex was the icing on the cake of a real relationship... Family... Whatever the fuck it was.   
  
But you.  You have ripped us apart, and I'm not sure I can forgive you.  

Ever.  

It pains me to say it, but if you walk through the door tomorrow I would kick you out on your arse, because Q does not deserve your shite.  And nor do I.   
  
When you come to your senses, call me, but don't expect open arms.  

We just want to know why.


	6. Home hasn't been where your heart was

Q stops abruptly just inside the door of the flat  as he and Alec finally return to the flat, realising that the state of it is an outward reflection of bat shite craziness that had been churning inside his head over the last few weeks.  Amelie curled frantically around his ankles seeking attention as he knelt to sooth meows, scratching at her ears.

“Q?  What the hell is that!”  A voice above startles him out of his Amelie distraction.  Alec has seen his nest on the sofa.  He prays that Alec won't immediately translate the nest, in which he had been hibernating when home to sleep, as to what it really is… his inability to make himself sleep the bedroom.  

Their bedroom.  

Alone.

Q immediately jumps up from where he is knelt on the floor with Amelie.  “I'll order takeaway to be delivered” because god knows there wasn't anything in the refrigerator because someone (I wonder who...) had forgotten to order groceries.  

"Stop!"  Alec commands and Q freezes halfway to the kitchen.  

Alec has followed him, silently shaking his head at the mountain of duvet and pillows where their sofa should be.  Sometimes on restless nights Q would gravitate to the sofa, but this mess of bedding has a permanent residence look to it.  
  
Whatever Alec thinks of challenging him, it is completely forgotten when he rounds the corner.  "What the hell happened here?"  The entire kitchen island is buried under tech and paper and used mugs, half of which still contain dregs in varying stages of mould.  
  
Q shrugs and hastily gathers up two handfuls of crockery and dumps it by the sink.  "I got a bit distracted.  I was... Comfortable in here. Didn't feel so isolated."  
  
"Christ, have you even ventured beyond these two rooms?"  Alec is angry, but it's not really Q's fault.  He is just the one left behind to deal with the consequences.  Alec catches the momentarily lost look before Q shuts down again and turns his back to Alec to place their food order.  
  
Alec sighs and leaves Q to it, needing a moment alone to calm his anger with James.  Upstairs the door to their bedroom is unusually firmly shut.  Alec pushes it open and Amelie races in ahead of him, immediately jumping onto the smooth made up quilt and investigating the pillows.

He stares at the surrounding bedroom running a hand through his hair with a deep sigh.  The bedroom is clean.

As a matter of fact it is immaculate.

It is never this tidy.

It is never immaculate.  

Wardrobe is closed.  Drawers are shut tight.  The bed is made with military precision.  The towels are even hung neatly in the bathroom.  

Nothing is out of place.

Even James isn't the anal.    

A string of curses in Russian flows out of him with ease.

He stops at the top of the stairs taking a few deep breathes trying to refocus before he heads back down to confront Q.  

It was worse than he thought.   

The dishes had been shoved into the sink when he re-entered the kitchen. Papers had been gathered.   Q had just grabbed up an armful of tech to deposit it elsewhere.  “I ordered Thai. I ordered your favourite. Spicy seafood with Thai basil.”  He disappeared down towards the spare bedroom with the bits and pieces he had gathered up.  

“Q!  Get your skinny arse back up here!”  Alec called down after him.  “No hiding down there thinking you are going to reassemble that shite.”

Q pretended not to hear, scurrying into the room and dropping most of the tech on the overloaded sofa bed buried in the corner.  

Alec was furious.  

They would talk and Alec would say that without James they were nothing and they should probably end things now before...  
  
"Q! I'm fucking talking to you, you little shite!  I didn't want to corner you but we need to talk."  
  
And there it is.  

That dreaded phrase.  

The one that will precede 'I don't think this will work, just the two of us'.  
  
"What the fuck are you talking about?"  Alec stepped into Q's personal space, both hands closing on Q's upper arms.  "You want us to break up too?  Why would you even think that?"  
  
Q can't look at him.  

"Thinking out loud" he whispered.  "Sorry, I just...  I don't know why you would want to stay with me."

He stares at Alec’s chest for a few moments before pulling away turning back to him.  Alec can see him take a deep breath, straightening his shoulders.  

Obviously the Quartermaster is trying to take control again.  

“It just seems logical that with Bond gone, you would chose to move on also after all.” Q is waving his hands in the air as he tries to gather his thoughts, bracing himself, back still turned to Alec.

“Do you want me to leave, Q?”  Alec grabs him again by the arm spinning him around again.

He still can't look Alec in the eye.  

“Of course not.” Comes out as a barely audible whisper as he struggles to maintain his composure. “I just… you and Bond…  Fuck…”

Alec looks down at the dark curly head bowed in front of him and realises Q has been alone for 6 weeks, has bottled this up inside all this time hidden behind the Quartermaster mask that has been plastered on tightly that entire time.   

He is so going to kill James.  

Q allowed himself to be pulled into Alec's arms though it took a long moment for him to relax at all.  Alec just hugged him dropping a soft kiss on the crown of Q's bowed head.  
  
"What can I do to convince you that I want to stay?  That I see this flat, with you in it, as home.  The place I need to be."  
  
Q buried his face in Alec's warm solid chest drawing in a long shaky breath that somehow refused to fill his lungs due to the constricting band of emotion that threatened to crush him if he let his control slip.  "Don't know" he mumbled.  "James always called it home but in the end he went off with her."

He looked up at Alec finally, tears glinting in the corners of his eyes.  "I hate her!"  
  
"Yes" Alec agreed.  He had no excuses or reasons to give that would make Q more forgiving towards his stupid partner.  

None made sense to Alec either.

But the next time he and James meet, Alec's fist would be planted in his friend's face for doing this to Q.  

Their Q.  



	7. I'm suffocating

“It's done. Tested and secure.” Q sighed as he closed his laptop and slid it across the kitchen counter out of the way.  “It will send us both a silent signal to our mobiles and other devices if someone tried to break in without the proper codes.”  He had just finished setting up the security system on Bond’s old flat and storage.

“One step closer Q.”  Alec gave his shoulder a squeeze as he stepped up behind him placing a kiss on top of his head.  

Q had come home one day not too long ago and announced that MI6 was selling off Bond’s flat and he had purchased it.   

Alex didn't ask and didn't want to know where Q had gotten the funds to make the purchase.

He was more concerned about Q’s emotional stability behind the action.   Alec had him sit down and explain his logic behind the purchase.  

And in the long run, Alec had to give him credit. He was thinking with his head.  

Q had told him that even though James was still on the top of his “I'm going to bury you in a deep dark dank hole to suffer for eternity” list and would probably more than likely remain there “until hell bloody fucking freezes over”, he thought it was dreadful that if he did ever return it would be to come back to nothing.   Everything having been sold off, gone.   He wouldn't want someone to do that to him, so he couldn't do it to James, even though he was “on the list for eternity”.

They had promptly boxed up all of Bond’s things still in the flat and had taken it over to leave at Bond’s... now Q’s, old flat.

Maybe this would be another step towards moving beyond the shadow of Bond in their lives that was still suffocating them.  


	8. Time moves on

Moneypenny stood, file in hand, just at the side of Q’s workstation waiting patiently until he finished reviewing the schematics for some new toy he had dreamed up in R&D before the Technician stepped away leaving just the two of them there takes the plans with Q’s new directions with him. Both stood in silence for a few brief moments until Moneypenny slid the file across the desktop towards him, a plain blank covered file. “I thought you should know beforehand. So you weren't blindsided. Announcement is being made Monday.”

It sat staring up at him next to his keyboard. Inwardly his stomach flipped as he took a deep breath picking up the file. It was just enough outward reaction that Moneypenny caught it but none of his surrounding staff would have noticed. “Thank you Moneypenny. I'll start preparing kit for him.”

She gently gave his shoulder a squeeze and walked away. It was something unspoken about between them. They have never openly talked about Bond’s departure. And Q was determined that they never would.

Q headed toward his office, file tucked under his arm, as he pulled out his mobile from his trouser pocket.

“I hope you are calling me to tell me you are on the way home and are planning to have glorious sticky sex all evening.” Alec’s voice responded on the second ring without even a hello.

“You’re lucky you are not on speaker phone. But there could be a distinct possibility that is on the agenda for the evening.”

“Q? Wants going on?” Alec questioned immediately on guard. “I can tell by the tone of your voice.”

“They’re announcing his replacement. Filling his number. Moneypenny told me.” Alec could tell by his phrasing, hear the slight hesitation in his voice, that there had been a crack in the Quartermaster persona at work and Q was struggling.

“Leave early. I'll put a couple of bottles into chill and be waiting for you in the garden.” Alec could hear him start to protest that there were things he needed to accomplish.

“No arguing, you little shite.” Alec demanded. “Home. Being together now is more important than bloody Queen and Country.” Fucking James. Was he ever going to quit disrupting their lives.

  
The staff driver dropped Q at the door, waiting until he was safely inside before driving off. Just inside he leaned heavily against the door frame, listening to the tyres crunching on the gravel, trying in vain to compose himself. With a deep sigh he decided he was going to fall apart anyway, he may as well get it over with in the company of the one other person who understood.

Alec was true to his word, lounging on the garden sofa, drink in hand. Q observed him looking pensive from the shadows of the kitchen. The news would hurt Alec also, not just personally, but professionally as well. A new agent promoted to the Double Oh program always unsettled the others while they got acquainted with the new personality and MO.

Decisively Q took a chilled bottle and fresh glass outside, marching across the small garden to drop in the chair opposite. "For fucks sake, it's not like the bastard died! Why does it still bloody hurt this badly? He left us! We shouldn't give a shite that he's been..." Q choked on the final word.

Being replaced, number reassigned, meant that James was not coming back. Had nothing to come back to.

It was expected, but it left a foul bitter taste in Q's mouth that he tried to burn away with a large mouthful of vodka.

"We both knew the day would come, Q. It's been almost six months. The world needs as many of us out there as possible, so leaving the number unassigned doesn't make sense." Alec's tone was dull, like he'd practiced the words so often they read like a script. He topped off their glasses and patted the sofa beside him. "Come here."

"I can't. If I do I think I may bloody cry, and I will not fucking do that over him!"

Alec moved Q's glass and the bottle towards him, out of Q's reach. "Get over here, you little shite. Do you think I give a damn if you cry on me? It only pisses me off that he still has such a hold on us, yet we don't even know where he is! I assume someone at Six knows..."

  
“I’ve checked. No one knows. Do you really think they’d be able to hide it from me…”. His voice trailed off as he reluctantly moved to sit beside his partner, but sagged as soon as Alec enveloped him in a hug. "I can't keep mourning a man who simply didn't want me." Q sniffed.

 


	9. Big shoes to fill

Alec had just opened the refrigerator when the locks turned on the front door of the flat and he heard Q enter. Just a few moments later he flounced into the kitchen, messenger bag still slung over his shoulder, and properly announced, “I hate him! I bloody hate him.”

“Q? Hate who?’ Alec questioned, with a raised an eyebrow, deciding it best to reach for another glass as he slipped the one he had poured for himself across the kitchen counter towards Q as he flung his messenger bag onto the sofa.

“He’s tall, dark haired, bloody handsome, cocky arsehole, and perfectly suited for the position. And I hate him already.” Q huffed at him grabbing up the glass off the counter, grimacing after taking too large of a swallow.

“So you met him?’ Alec poured himself a drink realising this was going to be a long night with Q already well on his way to being completely bat shite crazy for the evening.

“Tanner brought him around to make the introductions. Give him the tour. ‘Oh Quartermaster, I'd like to introduce you to the new 007. You’ll be handling his missions of course’. Blah Blah Blah. I hate him.” Q paced the kitchen working himself up even more until Alec stepped in front of him halting his circuit of the kitchen pulling him into his arms.

“You hate him because it's not James.” Alec chuckled at him.

“I need another drink,” Q huffed at him again.


	10. Burnt pieces

Alec finally decided to check the post which neither had bother to look after for at least two weeks.  Q was upstairs putting the last final keystrokes on a project at the end of the day before they were going cook dinner together, a relaxing moment after a truly chaotic week.   

He was shuffled through the pile odds and ends, bills, some tech periodical that Q read… when buried it the middle, almost hidden by other envelopes, was a post card.

Barduda.  

The Caribbean Islands.  

Addressed to Robert Sterling and Zaquary Lewis.  

Bond. 

Of course Bond. 

Bloody fucking Bond.   

Alec immediately threw it into the fireplace without even reading the message before Q could see it... 

Watching it go up in bright coloured flames.  

Better Q didn’t even know that it had come.  

They had just seemed to finally get some balance back in their lives and didn’t need any of Bond’s shite throwing their lives to the kerb again. 

  
  
  



	11. Breaking the final link

Q's fingers hovered nervously over the mouse.  He hadn't moved in almost ten minutes, staring fixedly at the screen. Alec was growing concerned.  
  
"Alright Q?"  Fresh mug of Earl Grey exchanged for the now cold half-empty coffee that sat to the right of the laptop in the kitchen counter.   
  
"Mmm."     
  
Not a yes or a no.  Truth was, Q felt...lighter.  But nervous.  This was like saying the final goodbye they never had a chance to express.   
  
Alec leaned over Q's shoulder and silently scanned the screen, curious to know what had his lover so captivated.  Unexpectedly, it was Alec's stomach that gave a little flop when he read the altered details on the HR portal...  
  
Their address.  

Their Next of Kin details.  

Their emergency contact details.  

Until now their three linked employee codes had appeared in the fields.  Now the cursor blinked in the blank space where James' number had been and the mouse pointer hovered over the bold Save button.  
  
"I'm ready to let him go, Alec.  And it doesn't hurt half as much as I thought it would to do this."   
  
Still Q hesitated.  Alec knew Q was waiting for him to object but this was sensible. The right thing to do.  

Even his anger with James had dulled to an occasional pissed off need to punch you thought.  
  
"Do it" Alec said softly.   
  
Q clicked the mouse and the confirmation message was like a creaking door finally swinging shut.   
  
"Q, you do know I have no plans to leave you ever, don't you?"   
  
Q smirked at him, rising so he could wriggle into the welcoming embrace of his partner.  "Of course.  You're my one and only.  Computer says so."


	12. Prodigal Agent

The sofa and the television had become the focus of their evening.  Alec had taken over one end of the sofa with popcorn, beer, and was in the process of enthusiastically telling his favourite footie team that they were watching (Alec was watching) just what they were doing wrong and why they were loosing.  Q was curled up at the other end, Amelie on his lap, tablet in hand, ignoring the game, and only responding occasionally to Alec’s running commentary.

Alec had just fetched himself another bottle, bringing one along for Q when an alert sounded on Q’s mobile… and Alec’s mobile, Q’s tablet, and some other tech still buried in Q’s messenger bag in the in the front hallway.  Q glanced up at him with a startled look on his face and Alec stopped midway in handing Q his beer.   

“What? What is it?  Don’t tell me that is what I think it is?”  Alec didn’t reach for his mobile to find out, but tensed, truly hoping it wasn’t what he thought it was.

Q’s slowly turned his tablet around slowly so Alec could see the alert.  Amelie stood, head butting his tablet, trying to join in on what had caught her humans attention so intently.

“It’s the flat.  Bond’s old code was just punched into the security system.”  He pulled the tablet back, bringing up the main panel for the security system, audio and visuals of the cameras he installed in the Bond’s flat.

Footsteps echoed in the darken flat, stride and cadence that they both would know anywhere.   

And then, there in the security camera feed was Bond.

Bloody fucking James Bond.  

Standing there.  

A little older looking.  Thinner. Haggard.   But still…

Bloody fucking James Bond.

Looking at the belongs of his past, that hadn’t changed at all since he walked away from that life.  However, things had been added to the flat.  Belongings that had obviously once been in the flat that now only Alec and Q resided in.  

Q wondered Bond had noted that fact.  

Maybe it didn't matter to him.

Alec scooted Q over as Amelie hissed at him taking to the back of the sofa. “He’s mine too you nasty cat.”  He dropped down on the sofa right next to Q, shoulders pressed together.

They silently watch as Bond slowly wandered through the flat, opening drawers here and there. Through the kitchen... to find it in order.  Bottles and tumblers occupying their normal placement, if that is what he said was seeking.  Looking into the wardrobe in the bedroom to find his suits occupying it, all in order, neatly hung, colour coordinated.

“He’s alone.” Q murmured.

“Probably got sick of his shite.” Alec chuckled grabbing his beer back up as they continued to watch Bond as he wandered back into the lounge, sat down on the sofa, and looked directly up into one of the security cameras.

“What do you think?”

“What do I think about what?” Q glanced at him with a truly puzzled look on his face.

“He’s here, well not really.  He’s there but…” Alec began but was interrupted.

“What?  Want to go over there and punch him in the face still?”

“The thought had crossed my mind.” Alec huffed and glanced to Q wondering what was running the boffin’s head.  

“No.  Absolutely not.  Going over there isn't an option, but feel free to punch him in the face if the opportunity ever arises.”  Q continued to watch Bond sit in the dark for a few more minutes.  

“He knows where we are and if he ever gets over his emotionally stunted self, maybe we will give him an opportunity to apologise.”

“And then what?”  Alec was taken aback that Q would even consider the possibility of letting Bond apologise after all they had been through together over the past months.

They had struggled for months just trying to get him past the fact that he wouldn’t come back to find the flat empty and Alec gone also.  Not to mention what James had done to…

“And then… We tell him to fuck off.”  Q beamed at Alec as he closed out the program.

 


	13. Waltz Back In

Q watched the monitors array on the front wall of the team room.  Keyboard in hand, the coding scrolled until, “There!  Line 12336.  There is a bracket missing.”   Out of corner of his eye, he caught the outer doors of the room opening and a distinctive figure entered quietly. He took a deep breath, steadied, and continued to watch the coding scroll across the monitors.

Bond came to stand just off the corner of Q’s workstation and waited until the Quartermaster stopped calling out another error that he had found. “Take a look at lines 18492 through 18973.  Something odd there in that fix around. Too much superfluous...” Q waved a hand in the air assuming that his techs would understand what he was saying to them.  “This is where the hiccup is.”

“Quartermaster.”  Bond took a small step closer toward where his young former partner stood. 

“Commander Bond.  It seems they let just anyone in anymore with a visitor’s pass.” Turning away picked up some files handing them off to his second who sat at a nearby workstation.  “I’m sure M would like to know that you have returned. “

“I’ve been to see him already, Q.”  Bond followed Q as he moved around his workstation, but stayed out of his personal space.  “I came to see you.  Can we talk, Q?”

“We have nothing to talk about Commander Bond.  Unless there has been equipment requested to outfit you for some god awful reason and I can’t think of a good one at the moment.” Q turned back towards his techs, heading towards his office.  “I need this flowing perfectly by 1700 hours on Thursday please.”

“Could we have lunch Q?  Talk?  I assume you still eat lunch occasionally?”

Q turned to stare at Bond for a moment emotional turmoil threatening to break through to the surface.  But then the Quartermaster facade settled in once more and took full control. He leaned in closer so when he spoke his words were only heard by himself and Bond. “If you think you can waltz back in here and things will go back to the way they were, as if nothing happened Bond, you are much more delusional that I ever thought you were. If you want to speak to someone, go find Alec. I’m sure he would be up for a little chit chat.” in that calm collected ‘’on the comms voice’. 

"I thought we could chat, then go and see Alec together."  Bond grinned, confident of getting his way sooner or later but Q was unmoved.    
  
"What you mean is 'Q is the soft touch who will be more open to listening to your shite'.  Guess again, Bond.  Now if you'll excuse me I have a conference call scheduled in my office."  Q closed the door to his office firmly in Bond's face, slumping against the wood and gritting his teeth to stop the curses from flowing freely. 

Arrogant bastard!  

He should text Alec to warn him that trouble was approaching.   
  
Bond meanwhile left the department, running lightly up the stairs towards the office the Double O's shared.  His hand was on the door when it suddenly flew inwards and a familiar silhouette stepped into the corridor.    
  
"Fuck! Sor-" Alec started to apologise to the unfortunate man he'd almost flattened and then swore again more colourfully.  

"What the fuck are you...?  Know what? I don't even fucking care!"  

Alec's fist crashed into Bond's jaw sending him reeling into the opposite wall of the corridor.  "Whichever stone you fucking crawled out from, fuck off back there with your tart.  You're not welcome here.  And stay away from Q!"


	14. Do we own a shovel?

Q sat at the kitchen counter, the side of his face pressed to the cool granite countertop, staring at the glass of wine that sat next to his head. Pondering if he could absorb it by osmosis.  It had been a stressful three days. With Bond reappearing also, life was doing its best to push Q the last remaining few inches to falling over the edge of the stress cliff.  

“What do we want for dinner tonight?”  Alec’s voice came from behind him somewhere around the refrigerator.

“I have my dinner right here, thank you very much.”  Q sat up long enough to take a drink and then his face was pressed once again to the counter.  

“Need more than the grape for dinner.  You think your head feels bad now…” Alec chuckled just as a security warning popped up on the television screen and both their mobiles started to vibrate a warning simultaneously.

“Front entry way.” Q said softly.  Alec already had gun drawn and was in mission mode.  With a few keystrokes and a swipe of the screen, Q had pulled up a visual already.

“Fuck!   It's Bond.  He’s trying his old code on the door which I deactivated.” Q sighed.  However, Alec didn't safe his weapon…  just not quite yet.   

“Look! I am so going to kill him!”  

“In front of the flat!"  Q held up the mobile for Alec to see, waving it in the front of his face like an excited toddler.

"The car!"  

"He is so bloody dead!”   In the background one could obviously see the front end of the Aston Martin Bond had absconded with while traipsing off to go knows where with Madeleine Swann.

"Under any other circumstances you'd give him credit for bringing it back unscathed." But Alec still glared critically at their former partner in the small app window.  "So, do we buzz him in or not? He looks like he has wine.  And food!"  
  
"I have wine" Q gestured at his glass which was now half empty, "and suddenly I've lost my appetite."  He scowled at the visual.  Bond was juggling two large carriers emblazoned with the logo of their favourite Indian takeaway and a bottle of red (Q presumed, because Bond rarely drank anything else).  "Bastard...  How much would you bet that he has all our favourites in that fucking bag?"  
  
Alec leaned over the open fridge door.  "Do you want to let him in?  We can hear what he has to say and then kick him out."  
  
"Do you?"  Q didn't want to make that decision.  Not that he had any intention of caving under the assault of Bonds charms, but he'd had enough hassle today without another scene, this time on their doorstep.  But... Bond had take away...  
  
“How deep of a hole can we dig in the garden in an evening Alec?”

“What the fuck are you rambling on about Q?” Giving him the “have you completely come bloody unglued this time”  or the “just how much wine have you really had” look.

“Well if we let him in, I may have to eventually shoot him.  We’ll need a place to dispose of the body.  I couldn't very well shoot him in front of everyone today at work. Witnesses and way too much paperwork.”   There was a pounding on the door and first Q’s then Alec’s mobile pinged with text messages.

“Oh let him the fuck in, Alec.  Or else the neighbors will be calling the police on us again.” Q sighed as he headed to deactivate the entry door security.  “There are only so many times in a month that I can smooth it over with the police and make records disappear without someone becoming suspicious.”

"I don't suppose take away delivery driver pays half as well as Double Oh status"  Q snarled at Bond, clinging onto their flat door like a lifeline.  "If you think I can be bought with garlic naan, you're a bigger fool than I thought."  
  
"Peace offering, Q.  A nice dinner, good conversation... Making up for lost time."  Bond thrust the bottle at Alec who snatched it from him, briefly contemplating smashing it over Bond's head.    
  
"And what lost time is that, James?" Alec snarked at him.  "All the months we didn't wait around for you to get your shite together and come to your senses?  The weeks we didn't  think about you leaving us for the doe-eyed Doctor with no explanation, or warning?  You have a bloody nerve turning up here!"  Alec slammed the fridge shut and stood rigidly in front of their former partner.  "Fuck knows why I let you in here, but you're here now.  Eat, say what you have to say, then fuck off.  That's as much leeway as I'm prepared to give you."

“Do we own a shovel, Alec?” Q sat back down at the counter glass of wine in hand.

 


	15. Volume Displacement

Bond was already moving towards the cupboards by memory where the plates were kept and setting out dinner for the three of them. And of course, true to Alec’s predictions, out of the bags came all their Indian favourites. “I still can’t be won over with garlic naan I hope you know.” Q threw out at Bond as he stole a piece out of the wrapper.

“Would never consider it Q.” Bond cautiously smiled at him pushing a filled plate in his direction.

Alec ranted at Bond.

Bond listened and never argued back

Q became very quiet lost in thought, drinking his wine…. “If we have 78 kg and a length of 178 cm… Consider volume displacement… Must consider adequate depth and width need…” Amelie jumped up on the chair next to him waiting for him to share a nibble from his plate. “Do you think the neighbors will notice Princess, or do we need to indulge Alec in his plant addiction and allow him some new cover foliage.”

“Q?” Alec turned to him concerned, hearing him muttering to the cat.

“Oh do continue… both of you. You seem perfectly capable of arguing amongst yourselves. Amelie and I are enjoying ourselves.” Reaching out to scratch her ears. “One thing though before you two get back at it, do we have any large black bin bags, Alec?”

 

 

 


	16. The perfect resting place

Q was drunk, and it was Bond’s fault.  Every time his glass was halfway empty Bond refilled it to the top, pushing it towards the dark haired young man with a grin.  As the evening progressed Bond met Alec’s snark with increasing charm, gradually wearing him down from his fighting stance to a growling acceptance that he was here.  He really did know how to tame the beast.

“I still really hate you, James” Q slurred, draining his glass of the last mouthful.  “And now it's time to say goodnight.  Amelie and I have found the perfect resting place for you in the garden, haven't we Princess?”

“So that's what you were doing mooching around the garden in the dark for so long?  I am glad you plan to keep me close though.  I still mean something to you after all.”  Bond smirked at Q who scowled back.  

Alec clashed the plates into a pile.  “Don’t push your luck James.  We were hungry and you brought food.  This is in no way forgiveness.”

“Of course not” he said smoothly.  “I wouldn't dare to presume.”

“Time to say goodnight and get your arse out of here.” Q bluntly commented, standing as he picked up Amelie, cuddling her to his chest.  

“I think you’re right.” Bond glanced at Alec who was moving the dishes from the island counter to the sink behind them.  “Goodnight Q.” Bond stepped up, reaching out as if to scratch Amelie on the head, but instead leaned in and kissed Q on the cheek.

Q shrieked flailing his hands at Bond trying to push him away, dropping Amelie in the process, who shrieked and hissed clawing for purchase all the way done.  “Get away from me Bond! Do.Not.Touch.Me!”  

Alec spun around shoving himself between Q and Bond.  “Back off Bond!  An arm protectively shoving Q behind him, ready to swing another punch at Bond's face at a moment's notice.  

“You lost that right a long time ago James, when you walked out on us.” Q hissed from behind Alec trying to push his way around the taller man to no avail.   

“Apologies Quartermaster.” Bond backed off, both hands in the air surrendering to his angered former partners.  “It seems I’ve overstayed my welcome.    Maybe we can do dinner again soon.”  Bond turned and left the flat without another word.  

Both Alec and Q were silent staring off towards the entryway to the flat.  “Q? Alright?” Alec was the first to break the silence when his young lover sighed heavily,  burying his face in the middle of Alec’s back.  

“How dare… I hate… Buggering hell… He’s… Bloody wanker.”  Q’s voice shook from anger, wine, and other churning emotions.  

“Maybe wasn't the best idea to let him in.” Alec sighed reaching behind him trying to pull Q around in front where he could see his expressions. “Do you want to give him a chance, Q?”   Alec cautiously asked, afraid what Q’s answer would be.  

“Do you?” was voiced quietly, hesitantly.  

“Asked you first, Q.”

“Not an answer, you wanker!” Q huffed at him. “But if you really need an answer, I think I’d rather purchase a good shovel.”

  
  
  
  
  



	17. I can snivel if I wish

“We could put it all in an email” Q said hopefully, switching to his Inbox in preparation for Alec to dictate their words.  “Lay out all our thoughts and feelings, give irrefutable arguments for why we’ve reached the conclusion we have…”

“It’s not a bloody intelligence report for M, for fucks sake” Alec grumbled.  He was no more looking forward to delivering the news to James than Q was, but James was his oldest friend.  An email wouldn't suffice, no matter how pissed Alec still was that he had stalked back into their lives like an arrogant cat with a dead sparrow offering.

“Text then” Q said, picking up his mobile, only to have it snatched away by his partner.

“No.  We owe it to James to give him the news face to face.”

“Oh yes… I clearly recall him sitting us down and explaining exactly why he was heading off into the sunset with the dull blonde conquest.”

Alec slid his arms around Q’s hunched angry shoulders and kissed the top of his head.  “Then we show him how a breakup is done by grown ups.”  He felt Q sag, defeated.  

James appearance had opened wounds that had barely had a chance to heal, and much as he loved his friend, things had changed.  He had changed, as had Q.  They had evolved into a couple, and a more permanent arrangement had started to invade Alec’s thoughts occasionally.  Regretfully, Alec had no room for James in their relationship any more.  Not as a lover, anyway.

“I’d rather be the toddler in this situation, at least inside the flat… here in a safe place.  Elsewhere, I am the Quartermaster to him and whatever the fuck Mallory is going to do with him now.” Q sighed.  It never occurred to Alec that James might be coming back to MI6 in some capacity.  And if he was going to be hanging around the building constantly that would make matters awkward if this didn’t end up amicable.  

Q pulled away from him and wandered a circuit around the kitchen before finally stopping near the refrigerator leaning up against the cupboard.  “I can’t go back knowing it would happen again.  It would, wouldn’t it.”   

Alec nodded at Q sadly.  “More than likely.  It’s James.”

“I should have listened to the analytical part of me that warned me not to get involved with James.  But there was you… and you and him… I just...  Fuck this is just a bloody pain in the arse.”  Q still couldn’t help but wonder if what there was between James and Alec would stir and bring everything crashed down again.

He flung the refrigerator door open grabbing out a bottle of ale.  “God I hate to say this but you’re right.  Needs to be face to face.”  

“Tonight? Get it over with.”

“Tonight.  Just so you know Alec, I am not ever going through this again.”  Taking a long drink from his ale then offering it to Alec.  “You've been warned.”

They drove to James' flat deciding it would be easier to make their escape afterwards.  They didn't bring gifts.  Alec convinced Q wine and food probably wouldn't make it any better and as it happened, James answered the door, large whisky tumbler in hand.  
  
"I haven't changed the security codes"  James smiled, waving them towards the lounge.  "You're welcome to come and go as you please.  You can give me my new code for your place in the office tomorrow."  
  
"No!"  Q perched on the edge of the sofa and Alec sat carefully beside him.  
  
"No?"  James paused with his glass halfway to his mouth.  He shrugged.  "No rush, it can wait.  Drink?"  
  
Q nudged Alec with his elbow.  "James.  We aren't staying.  We just came to say that, um...  We don't want... "  
  
Q interrupted, anxious to get the words out quickly.  "What Alec is failing to say, is that we don't want to go back to the way we were.  We've talked about it.  Alec and I are happy together, just us.  I don't want to take you back only for you to disappear again the next time someone catches your eye."

Q stood from where he had perched on the sofa the entire situation struggling to maintain any semblance of calm. “You took my feeling for granted James.  I won’t…” His voice started to crack but taking a deep shaking breath he forced the Quartermaster back into place.  

Alec and James both remained silent staring at the young man who stood between them.  “Well, I’ve had my say.  You two…” Q waved a slender hand between them as if it summed up all the words he couldn't manage to vocalize. He feared it was much easier to say the words in the confines of the flat than here, in person, with James. 

“I’ll just…” He glanced at Alec briefly before heading out the front door of James’ flat.

“Fuck…”  He muttered as the door closed behind him.  He headed to the car and rummaged around in the glove box, hands shaking, finding Alec’s hidden pack of cigarettes.  He lit one, pacing back and forth around the car… waiting.  

He had finished the cigarette and still no Alec.

Q stared at the front door of Bond’s flat as the bottom dropped out of his stomach.  He swallowed hard forcing the bile back down that was threatening to rise.  Grabbing the pack of cigarettes from the glove box and his hoodie from the back seat, he headed off down the pavement heading towards the nearest tube station, pulling the hoodie on over his slender frame,  hiding inside it.

Alec came out five minutes later and cursed when he realised there was no sign of Q.  He had left James with plenty to think about, leaving him in no doubt that the decision had been a mutual one, and no, neither had any intention of going back on it, no matter how charming James might be.  
  
"You have to stop fucking up every good thing that comes into your life James" Alec had said. "Decide what you're looking for and then go out and find it.  You thought she was the one and left us without a second thought.  Once I would have shrugged my shoulders and carried on, knowing you'd turn up eventually, but no more.  Q means everything to me now and I won't let you hurt him again."  
  
He dialled Q's mobile three times before Q answered, his voice tight and controlled.  "It's ok Alec, I understand.  I didn't expect any different.  Perhaps you could arrange to remove your things..."  
  
"What the fuck are you babbling about Q?  Shut up a minute and tell me where you are."  
  
There was a half cough, half sob from the end of the line.  "Tube station.  I thought I should leave you alone to work out the details of... Everything."  
  
"Stay there, you little shite!  I'm coming."  Alec pulled out into traffic giving an angry taxi driver a hand signal.  The station was only a few minutes away and when Alec screeched to a halt by the hooded figure Q had only just shoved his phone into his pocket.    
  
Ignoring the honks and curses of other drivers Alec jumped out of the car and smothered Q in a hug, refusing to let go until Q battered at his chest.   "Can't breathe" he sniffed when Alec pushed him to arm's length.  
  
"You're sniveling" Alec accused, wiping away moisture from behind Q's glasses.  
  
Q glared. "I'm upset! I can snivel if I wish."    
  
He tried to turn away but Alec grabbed him again.  "Let's go home. We can get take away, and do the early night thing like real couples do."  
  
"But...  But I thought..?"    
  
"You thought I would choose James.  It's ok. You're an arse, but you can make it up to me in bed later."  


End file.
